The Shirt
by Sgt. Moffitt
Summary: A minor mystery unfolds...so to speak. For the 2017 Short Story Speedwriting Challenge. (Hey, it's still June 24 in Hawaii!)


_A/N: I don't own Hogan's Heroes and I don't get paid for this; it is truly a labor of love._

 _The prompt line "It's only until tomorrow, then he's going to take it off again" is from the episode "Hold that Tiger"._

 _Missing scenes from "Hogan Go Home"._

* * *

Hogan's men were outraged, and with good reason. It was bad enough that their commander Colonel Hogan had been ordered to return to the United States for a bond-selling tour. Far worse was the fact that the infamous Colonel Crittendon had been wished on them as Hogan's replacement.

Newkirk was particularly disgruntled. Crittendon's first action on taking command had been to present his identification to Colonel Hogan, and his subsequent burning of the top-secret papers accidentally incinerated every spare item of clothing that Newkirk possessed.

Carter was feeling bit bad that he had made fun of Newkirk's misfortune, and so he offered to help with the restoration of the Englishman's vanished wardrobe.

Newkirk regarded him with a jaundiced eye. "Like I'd trust you with a needle! Reckon you'd sew the sleeves shut if I gave you the chance." He picked up the tattered bedsheet which had been purloined from the guards' quarters, and shook his head. "How am I to make a new nightshirt from this bit of rubbish, eh?"

"Does it have to be perfect?" asked LeBeau idly. "It is not as though any _filles_ are going to be seeing it."

Newkirk was outraged. "What makes you think I'd let a bird see me in my nightshirt anyway?"

Carter snickered. "Well, you sure don't have a problem with anybody else seeing it! Why don't you wear long johns to bed like everybody else?"

"You wouldn't understand, being the Yank that you are," Newkirk sniffed. "It's a British thing."

Newkirk was interrupted by the sudden opening of the door to Hogan's quarters, and Crittendon bustled out, as cheerfully clueless as ever.

"Another British thing," Kinch muttered.

Crittendon was oddly out of uniform, with his jacket draped over one arm and his tie over the other. And he was wearing a khaki shirt that looked very much like one belonging to Colonel Hogan.

"Ah, there you are, Corporal Newkirk. And with needle in hand, I see. Good show! I shall be needing your services, as you can see." He lifted his left arm to reveal a gaping tear in the shirt, a good six inches long.

"What happened, sir?" Kinch asked.

"That's on a need-to-know basis, Sergeant." Crittendon put the tie around his neck and briskly knotted it. "But there's no hurry, Corporal Newkirk. I shan't be needing the repair today. Haven't time to waste! Must rush over to the Kommandant's office at once." With that, Crittendon pulled on his jacket, hurried to the door of the barracks, flung it open and disappeared.

The Heroes stared at each other, and then turned to stare at their erstwhile commander, who had just emerged from his quarters with an air of weary resignation.

"Gee, Colonel Hogan, why did Colonel Crittendon put on your shirt?" Carter asked. "He should give it back!"

"It's only until tomorrow, then he's going to take it off again," replied Hogan. "At least I hope so. But why he put it on in the first place I don't know."

Kinch frowned. "Seems to me it's more important to ask why Colonel Crittendon just headed over to see Klink in such a big hurry."

"That's easy," Hogan sighed. "He actually came up with a decent idea to get me out of here. Plans to tell Klink that I'm a flight risk in order to get me transferred to another prison camp."

Kinch was unimpressed. "How will that help?"

"You guys will ambush my transport, disguised as German civilians, so the Underground will be blamed for my escape."

"That _is_ a decent idea, _mon Colonel,"_ LeBeau admitted.

"But will Klink believe Colonel Crittendon?" Carter wanted to know.

"Who knows?" Hogan growled. "They're both idiots; maybe they think alike."

But a few minutes later, an apologetic Schultz and an equally apologetic Langenscheidt entered the barracks.

"I beg your pardon, Colonel Hogan," Schultz said, "But we have been ordered to take you to the cooler."

Hogan tightened his lips but said nothing, and the Heroes watched aghast as he was led from the barracks.

Kinch squared his shoulders and set his jaw with determination. "Okay, guys. Tonight we've still got to sabotage the railway track where the Berlin Express will be traveling, not to mention the Kessling refinery. Newkirk, you and Carter proceed as planned. LeBeau, you need to contact Colonel Hogan in the cooler for instructions. Don't bother with trying to bribe whoever's guarding the cooler: use the tunnel entrance and hope the Colonel is in that cell."

He looked around at his comrades and nodded. "We're going to get our mission done, and we're going to get Colonel Hogan out of that cooler and on his way to England. Even if we have to use Crittendon to do it."

* * *

The sabotage took place without incident, and LeBeau was able to communicate with Hogan and deliver his request to Crittendon to get permission from Klink to visit Hogan. What happened between Crittendon and Hogan the Heroes didn't know, but it was observed later that night that Klink and Schultz also hurried over to the cooler.

At any rate, the next morning Hogan was out of the cooler and on his way to Stalag 15. The Heroes and Crittendon made their way outside the wire in order to ambush Hogan's transport, their anxiety heightened by the fact that Hogan's trip to Stalag 15 would be on the very Berlin Express that was doomed to encounter the bombs planted the night before.

The ambush didn't work out so well, but thanks to a flat tire on the transport truck the Heroes managed to rescue their commander, and they were more than pleased that Hogan decided not to return to the States after all. They parted ways for the moment, the Heroes to return to the stalag via the emergency tunnel, and Hogan to return via the main gate later on.

Colonel Crittendon was left behind in the dust. He made his own way back to Stalag 13, only to be promptly recaptured and sent off to Stalag 15 himself. Fortunately Klink was unable to book his transport via the Berlin Express and had to make alternate arrangements.

That evening Hogan presented himself at the main gate and a startled Corporal Langenscheidt welcomed him inside and escorted him to the Kommandantur. Hogan eventually emerged from the building with Klink, and he had the satisfaction of hearing a distant explosion: the destruction of the infamous Berlin Express, right on time.

Freeing himself from Klink's unwanted presence, Hogan strolled across the compound and entered Barracks 2.

"Welcome home, _mon Colonel!"_ LeBeau greeted him. "Did you hear the explosion?"

"That I did," said Hogan. "Good work, men. And Klink tells me that Crittendon is gone! Hey, we might just win this war after all. All's well that ends well, in fact."

He paused for a moment, his eyes widening. "Oh, _damn."_

 _"_ What is it, sir?" asked Carter.

"Crittendon still has my shirt!"


End file.
